


my dear tadashi

by baka_bitch



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: American History, American Politics, Angst, Duelling, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:00:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29877405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baka_bitch/pseuds/baka_bitch
Summary: Basically the American Revolution and the few decades after that but it's Haikyuu characters.Nobody asked for this, and it probably won't be a very good read, but it's relaxing to write. Also TsukkiYama is one of my comfort ships so I cried writing some of this.
Relationships: Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> KEEP IN MIND THIS IS A WORK IN PROGGRESS  
> I'm very fascinated by the late 1700's - early 1800's, during the American revolution and founding, and I've read countless books about people who lived back then. I also love Haikyuu, so I decided to combine the two.  
> This story is about a slow growing romance between kei tsukishima and yamaguchi tadashi, who meet at a ball in the middle of the war, and instantly harbor romantic feelings for each other. Of course, since this is set over 200 years ago, it's a very slow progression to admitting their feelings for each other.  
> Much of this story is based around the life of founding father alexander hamilton, who was rumored to have a romance with fellow soldier john laurens, who died in the last stages of the war. This fascinated me, and since tsukkiyama is one of my favourite comfort ships, I decided to write this fanfiction. I hope you enjoy, and I hope you don't cry too much (you probably wont, but I cried really hard writing some of the chapters of this fic).

**Chapter 1**

“Tsukki?”

Kei woke up in a painful, cold sweat. He gasped for air and dug his fingernails into the flesh on his arms. He tried to slow his breathing, but he couldn’t get any air in any other way than short, sharp bursts. He smacked his bedside table until his long fingers grasped his wristwatch.

He couldn’t see anything in his cold, dark room, he realized, because the fire had fizzled out.

Again.

Well, that was obvious because there was nobody left in the house to tend to the fire while he was sleeping.

It had been like this for months, waking up from the same nightmare to a cold fireplace.

Fumbling in the darkness, Kei eventually managed to spark a warm, gentle fire. He sat there for a while, marveling at how the flames moved as if they were dancing a slow, gentle waltz. It was funny, he thought, how many times he had sat here watching this, and how much it calmed him. How much it distracted him from life, from…

He shook himself out of his train of thought, and grabbed his watch from the bedside table.

03:42.

Great.

He knew he wasn’t going to get anymore sleep, so he made himself busy like he always did. Threw himself into his work. It was the only way to go on.

For hours he sat at his desk, the crackling of fire and scratches of a quill on parchment the only sounds in the small, humble room. 

At dawn, he heard a faint knocking on his door. 

_Tap, tap, tap._ Silence.

He recognized that knock.

“Enter,” he said, his dark golden-brown eyes never wavering from the rough parchment on which his feathered quill was scratching. 

Chikara Ennoshita entered the room. “Still working?”

“A dedicated statesman rarely ceases to work, especially in such a time of need.” His answer was matter-of-factly, his tone weary and dead.

Chikara sighed. “You need to sleep,” he said, making his way to Kei’s desk to sit on a chair. “Why, I find you at your desk at night until the candle has burned out and we’ve all fallen asleep, and in the morning before the birds have risen.” 

He was sad for his friend. Back in the war, there’d never been a more charming or handsome soldier. He’d always acted like he didn’t have feelings or that he didn’t care, but anyone close to him knew that he wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice his life for anyone he was loyal to. 

But recently, he’d been different. The colour had drained from his eyes and skin. He had wisps of gray in his curly blonde hair, despite still being relatively young. He rarely slept, he didn’t talk to anyone unless he needed to, he was at his desk all day and all night.

Chikira knew it was because of the accident.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

He knew he couldn’t really call it an accident. Duels had lots of preparations, ways to get out, opportunities to apologize and let the whole thing settle as a wisp of a thought in a dying veteran’s mind. 

It’s just that nobody had really known. 

Chikara had, of course. Tadashi had come to his doorstep, shaking with fear and adrenaline, soaked to the bone. He’d advised him to not continue, day in day out, to apologize.

But Tadashi had come a long way from the scraggly, shy soldier he once was. He wasn’t going to back down and sacrifice his honor. 

Even if it meant his life.

Chikira realized that Kei had played a huge part in this. He’d made him a more confident, self - assured person. And while he couldn’t say it wouldn’t have happened if he hadn't met Kei, it’s just…

He shook himself out of his train of thought and clapped a hand to Kei’s shoulder, who flinched at the touch and nearly spilled his bottle of ink on his work.

“Well, take care of yourself, okay?” 

He received no answer as he walked out of the door. This was how it always was, and always would be. Talking to him did no good. He’d tried.

As he made his way back to his little cottage where his wife and two sons would be waiting with a nice, warm meal, he worried for his friend. Should he keep going on with this quality of life, he stood a good chance to die young or go insane. 

Kei watched him go through the small window next to the door that was one of his only light sources. He knew how much his friend worried about him, and though part of him cared, most of him just wanted him to leave like everyone else had so that he could finally die alone.

He met Tadashi at a ball in the hot summer of 1781, amongst the rumours of a dramatic finish to the war possibly in their home city of New York. 

Pairs danced, the band played, the ever nearer-drawing end to the war filling everyone with adrenaline, excitement and fear, and Kei Tsukishima strutted around the ballroom, towering over everyone else.

Naturally, every woman wanted to dance with this tall, dark, handsome colonel, and though he didn’t show it, Kei was equally pleased to dance with such fine ladies.

It was as he bent down to kiss the delicate gloved fingers of distinguished Miss Hana Misaki that he saw a shy figure in the corner of the room sipping on some punch. 

He didn’t think much of this shady character.

It definitely wasn’t love at first sight.

It was only after he had charmed a few more ladies and sipped a little more punch that he approached this man, walking slowly and with long strides. 

The man seemed, not small exactly, for he was nearly as tall as Kei, but shy and apologetic, as he hunched over and looked down whenever talking to someone. 

Though this ought to have annoyed Kei, it didn’t. 

“Colonel Kei Tsukishima,” he said, holding out his hand. The man took it, trembling.

“A-and I, um, I am a soldier, Tadashi Y-yamaguchi,” he stammered.

“There’s no need to be so scared,” said Kei. “Look up at me.”

He did so, his large black eyes peering up to reveal the tall man whom he’d regarded with so much respect and fear for so long smiling down at him.

Smiling.

And Tadashi assumed he’d never smiled in his life.

Of course, Tadashi thought, somebody of his position in the war must be incredibly stressed and under a lot of burden, but he didn’t seem like the type to smile.

They talked for the rest of the evening, about politics, about the war, about their hometowns. Kei learned that Tadashi had called New York City, the very city in which they were standing at that moment, his home from a very young age, unlike himself; Kei had grown up in Richmond, Virginia. 

“Do you miss home?” Tadashi asked, sipping on his punch.

“Sometimes,” Kei answered truthfully.

“What do you miss most?”

“My family.”

“Do you have a lot of family?”

“A brother and a mother.”

“They must be very dear to you then.”

“You could say that.”

He smiled slightly, as if recalling a fond memory. He looked over at Tadashi. “Do you have much family?” he asked.

Tadashi looked down into his cup. “I was orphaned from a young age. I had a brother, but he’s, well, he’s left home.”

Kei had a feeling this wasn’t the entire story, but since he felt bad about asking, he didn’t press the matter. “I’m terribly sorry.”

“Don’t be, my friend,” said Tadashi, his comfort returning. 

At the end of the night, as they were leaving, Tadashi said, “Do you think you would see fit for me to write to you?”

Kei was surprised, for, he hadn’t ever had anyone ask him if it was okay to write to him; they had simply done so with no words exchanged beforehand. Humbled at his politeness, he replied, “Why, yes, I do. I’d like to continue our discussion on politics. I hope we do cross paths again in the future.”

Tadashi looked down, his shaggy greenish-tinged hair falling so that it masked his face. “I hope for that as well.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Over the next few months they kept in touch well. Though they were both unbelievably busy with their positions in the war, they always found time to write to each other.

Only rarely did they meet each other in person, but even so, they both felt that they were getting to know each other just as well.

In time, the war ended, with a great, dramatic final flourish in Yorktown, Virginia. After all the bloodshed, scrambling, sickness, disagreements, mutinies, cold winters, resentment, suffering, this thing we call war that had lasted for seven years, everyone became one nation.

Of Americans.

They met again in the crowds outside the white house, as President Sawamura Daichi bent down to kiss the bible, as everyone cheered and the Stars and Stripes were hoisted over the revolutionary’s heads. 

Both of their heads were above the crowd, as both of them were taller than your usual citizen. As they made their way through the sea of people, their eyes met, and immediately they both smiled. 

“Colonel Tsukishima!” Tadashi waved over the bobbing sea of heads as he made his way through the crowd.

“Ah, if it isn’t Yamaguchi. Come, my friend, let us make our way to a coffee house of some sort, for the noise here is too unbearable for us to speak,” shouted Kei.

They made their way across the street to Fraunces Tavern. When they got there, they bought some drinks and talked for hours. 

They talked about what they had written in their letters, the conversation flowing and evolving more and more every minute.

Eventually, the conversation turned to politics. They were both eager to acquire a position in congress, and they were both federalists. They both believed that a constitution ought to be ratified if the fleeting young nation was ever to be capable of governing itself. 

That’s where it started. 

They decided to team up and write the Federalist Papers, a collection of essays written under the pen name Publius.

Their goal was to write around 30 - 50 essays in the short time they had. 

But they ended up writing 85 essays. In the span of six months. Just the two of them. 

Of course, they had asked one of their good friends Hisashi Kinnoshita to write, and he had accepted; but no sooner had he sent his first essay off to the press, he fell ill and was unable to write.

So that left just Kei and Tadashi to finish this enormous task.

It took work, yes. Early every morning Tadashi walked over to Kei’s little cottage and they spent the day inside, talking and writing. They were so exhausted but they couldn’t stop. There were days when their hands were shaking and their heads were pounding and their backs were throbbing and they could barely see straight. There were days they didn’t eat or drink. There were days that they didn’t even have the time to read over and essay before sending it straight to the press.

But they got it done.

“Holy shit,” Kei had said on one of those nights. “This is hard. Why did we do this?”

“Because a constitution needs to be ratified if we want to continue living our lives as an independent nation,” Tadashi replied, his eyes dead set on the parchment he was writing on. “We’ve committed to it now, we can’t back out.”

Kei smiled slightly. “I wasn’t suggesting that. This will all be worth it. It’s for the good of the country, after all.”

In time, Tadashi decided it was just wasting precious time and energy to make the trip to and from Kei’s house every day, so he stayed over at his house to get the rest of the writing done. 

Although many sacrifices were made and they slept for days after the writing was finally finished, they were both happy for the time together. They had become even closer, and they were the political duo nobody messed with.

The essays worked; the constitution was ratified. Kei was appointed Secretary of the Treasury, and Tadashi the Secretary of State.

Tadashi never really moved out after that. It was just easier to get all their work done if they stayed together. Besides, they relaxed one another, and they were both grateful for each other’s company.

They drank tea together and talked about politics. They laughed and studied and wrote and ate and drank. They shared a special friendship.

One day, Kei woke up to find Tadashi not in his room. He assumed he was just in the bathroom, but when he went to check, nobody was there. 

He checked every room in the house, but couldn’t find Tadashi. Panic started to rise in his throat. He shouted his name and woke the neighbours, but he didn’t care.

He raced around, opening all the clattering drawers and checking under the beds and in the closet. Tears of stress blurred his vision, and he felt himself sink to the floor,

Just for a moment, he lost it.

And then he heard the door creak open.

He raced over and found Tadashi coming in with some bags.

“Oh, Kei, sorry, did I wake you?” He asked. “I just went out to get some groceries. We were running low on-”

He suddenly became aware of the arms around him.

Strong arms that clutched him as if they were bolted in place and were never going to let go.

He dropped the bags and tears sprang up in his eyes.

“I thought I lost you,” Kei whispered into his neck. 

Tadashi had never seen Kei so sentimental before. He didn’t realise how much he meant to him. He slowly lifted up his arms and delicately hugged him back.

He let out a weak chuckle. “Silly Kei,” he said softly. “I only went out for half an hour. You needn’t worry yourself like that. It’s bad for your heart.”

Kei loosened his grip and wiped a tear away. "Don't ever do that to me again," he cried softly. He picked up one of the shopping bags. “You’re right. Let’s take these into the kitchen and make ourselves a nice breakfast.”

Oh, how it chilled him now to look back on that moment.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

They grew very, very close over the months and years that followed. In each other’s company, they saw no need to seek out a wife or more friends to host dinner parties for. They were happy to be with each other. Both of them having no family with them in the big city, they became each other’s family.

They found joy in the little things like writing letters and sitting by the fire and dining peacefully. Tadashi, being an early riser, always made sure that the fire was still going in the early hours of the morning so that neither of them got cold. He made sure that they lived in the greatest comfort.

By this point Tadashi had sold the apartment in which he lived, having discussed it with Kei, whom he now referred to fondly as ‘Tsukki’. Though he didn’t like to admit it, Kei thought it a well-suited and nice nickname.

They moved up the ranks in terms of politics as well. They created a bank, founded a newspaper, continued to write essays, helped the country found a national currency. They brought the country from bankruptcy to prosperity.

They were happy. 

They were never happier.

One day, Kei was alone at home. Tadashi had gone into his office in the city to do some legal work.

He walked around the house awkwardly, the clacking of his leather shoes creating the only noise. He sighed and sat down on his rough, red leather chair, picked up his black quill and began scratching away.

He found writing to be incredibly relaxing. The way his mind organized what he wanted to inscribe and brought those thoughts to the forefront, giving his brain a break. Giving him time to think.

_ Scratching scratching scratching.  _

_ I think that there are ways we can improve the constitution. Tadashi is working on a policy to abolish slavery, but I think we could do more to further that in the constitution. _

_ Scratching scratching scratching. _

_ Do we have any bread left for supper? Darn, Tadashi’s just gone into the city and I didn’t check. _

_ Scratching scratching scratching. _

_ Is Tadashi coming home soon? I hope he is. I miss him when he goes into the city. _

_ Scratching scratching scratching. _

_ I love Tadashi. _

Kei stopped writing. He sat up a little.

_ I mean, as a friend. I don’t love him, he’s not a woman. _

_ Well, how do you even categorize love anyway? How do you know if it’s love? I mean, I don’t love Tadashi, but still? _

He paused as he realised that he’d never come to love anyone in his entire life.

He loved his family, sure, but never had a romantic interest.

All the ladies of the city seemed to want him. And yet all he wanted was…

Tadashi.

A man.

A man he loved, but knew wouldn’t love him back.

He buried his head in his hands and took deep breaths. He clasped his head and squeezed his eyes tighter as the realisation sunk in _. _

_ I love Tadashi. What’s wrong with me? Am I in a dream from which I’m bound to wake up any second? Did I bump my head? Do I have some sort of mental illness? _

_ I love Tadashi. _

Just then he heard the door creak.

“Tsukki! I’m home!”

He stood up quickly and the chair scraped along the wooden floors before toppling over behind him. He cursed under his breath.

“Tsukki? Are you okay?”

He was still coming to terms with his realisation, so he was defensive. How dare Tadashi speak so calmly, when he had no idea how he felt? When he had no idea how much he was hurting? He knew it was irrational but his feelings took over as he said, “I’m fine,” in a cold voice through thin lips.

“You don’t sound fine.” Tadashi was a little hurt but decided to brush it off. He knew Kei could be like this when he was passionate about something. Of course, he’d never been this cold to  _ him  _ before, but still… 

“I am. Now if you could kindly explain where the devil you’ve been for the past-” his speckled eyes flicked to the clock above the mantel “- two and a half hours.”

“I’ve been in my office studying law! You knew that! I told you!”

“Great. Well, it seems we don’t have any bread so we won’t be able to have supper tonight.”

“How is that my fault?” Tadashi’s eyes were welling up now. Kei had been his only friend. How could he treat him like this? He knew he was sensitive! “We still have plenty of food for supper!”

“How would you know?” Kei snapped. “You haven’t been here.”

“What are you talking about?!” cried Tadashi, warm tears sliding down his face one after the other. “You aren’t making sense! Please, stop this and tell me what’s going on!”

“Kindly go and prepare supper for us.”

“But Tsukki-”

“Or you can leave  _ my  _ house.”

This hit hard. Since the years he’d moved in, Kei had never once referred to it as  _ his  _ house. Though he was right, he’d always,  _ always,  _ referred to it as their house. Their house, in which they’d laughed. Their house, in which they’d dined. Their house, in which they debated politics and read the newspaper. Their house, in which they had written the Federalist Papers together, exhausting themselves to the point of passing out. Their house, in which they’d suffered and smiled and traded jokes and written national banks and government plans into existence.

Their house, in which they played piano and marveled at the latest doings and cooked and cleaned and written letters.

Their house, in which they’d fallen in love.

Tadashi staggered backwards and steadied himself against the table. “Unfortunately that won’t be an option. I’ll have supper ready for around five.”

Another word was not said that evening. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the way i cried while writing this like okay crying at your own work what kind of concieted writer are you
> 
> i just love tsukkiyama and im really sad i made them fight
> 
> imma get them to make up bcs im so sad


End file.
